Progenies of The Fallen City
by MagicalT
Summary: The city of Babylon was a fine city, everything was prosperous. Until, one day, She appeared and forever altered the lives of the only ones to ever live through the horrors of the Destruction of Babylon. Its up to Alastor and Markus to avenge their people
1. Ch 1 Ruin and Creation

Ch.1-Ruin and Creation

Sin, it is the highest of all crimes in the eyes of man. The fear that every action they must do has to follow the limitations given to them by their creator, the Almighty. Therein lies the question, who possess the power to disobey Him? How can one entity have so much will over us as we have will over ourselves? The answer to this question is obscure in our path of life and can only be found throughout. Even when everything is given to us, free will, mastery over the creatures of the land, air and sea, and power to rule each other in a way that all are content, the eyes of man are blurred by the simplest of emotions.

Wrath breeds violence, Lust breeds contempt, Greed breeds scorn, Gluttony breeds misery, Sloth breeds atrophy, Envy breeds hate, and Pride breeds ignominy. Those who live without these seven deadly laws are granted a life of prosperity and an afterlife in the subliminal utopia. This seems a simple task, but when we look upon ourselves as we would any other creature, we are but animals living with a mind that allows us to discourage ourselves from the better known beasts of this world. We are all comprised of blood, tissue, and organs. What allows a human to have humanity and not instinct? We give whim to the insecurities of death which awaits all living things by looking to a higher power. This power which exists beyond death and gives us condolence by offering an escape from the reaper's grasp. All we must do is follow His rules and refuse succumbing to that which turns a blind eye to His teachings.

In life, we sometimes loose our humanity and commit crimes against fellow men. This absence of dignity is from the instinctive pulse that drives our primal fears into reality. We become angry, we attack, we become hungry, we eat, we become threatened, we kill. To one living around such savage actions, it may seem a disgusting act of treason to cause injustice to one another, but when a whole community, nay, a whole society of people are flourishing in these acts, the nature of a pristine lifestyle is second to the urges that spontaneously erupt our deepest fantasies and nightmares into the world. I speak not of deceitful tales and fanciful stories, but of history, the history of the Creation and Destruction of Babylon.

The story most were told includes many different ideals that are supposed to bring wisdom and insight to help achieve piety in life. This was just a story, something with a moral, a theme. For what occurred, there is nothing to be learned, except for how one event, an act of defiance, could conspire calamity and redefine the idea of existence that would send a rapture throughout the course of thousands of years. Events occurred in that city that forever etched its cataclysmic end into the world. Let us start from the beginning, when and where time was great and the people were content.

From the eyes of the Almighty, a vision was formed, one of a place where the creations of the earth could thrive in happiness without the need for senseless violence or suffering. His miscalculation, one and only, of allowing only two of His creations to thrive in His garden would not be repeated. Instead of only two, He endowed the Earth with a small community of people and made each with their own individuality, or as they would call it, Free Will. An idea was bestowed upon the people of His image, one of living in harmony with each other and spreading steadily to fill the new and barren Earth. To populate and grow in order to rule the land as the True Creations, that of which could not do harm to one another or the land that was so graciously given. Thus was born one of the planet's first cities, with a name as extravagant as the city itself, Babylon. The will of the Almighty guided them in the beginning, as a Shepard would guide his flock, and said unto them to chose several Kings; one for every mountain surrounding their newly found and sanctimonious region. The people could only think of them, the men who possessed the most righteous presence. They were Aventine, Palatine Capitoline, Caelian, Quirinal, Viminal, and Esquiline. Of those Kings, each ruled with authority and compassion making sure neither of the other Kings belabored more than they should. Under the rule of the Seven Kings, the people established within the city buildings and residential homes to house them and their devout families.

Every person had a dutiful job. There were streets filled with merchants who exhibited goods and riches for people and Kings alike. Everyone was jubilant, no one wanted more than they needed and they all lived by the pious laws passed unto them. Time was endless like a constant, purifying river that flowed into the heart and souls of Babylon's citizens. To a wanderer, the people of this fair city looked like nothing more than blissful citizens enjoying life to the fullest. Indeed, the city of Babylon was the ideal city, but as with all good things, they must come to an end. Along with the laws passed by the Almighty, He gave the King's a premonition. He told of a trial that would take place within Babylon's walls which would scourge or bless its lands. Fearing this, the King's marked their city with the marks of the Almighty to hold of their end and prevent the suffering. Unfortunately, the end of Babylon was much more prolonged and tortuous than any instantaneous ceasing. Their trial would become a force that would revolutionize mankind and the whole plane of existence.

It began one day as any other would, men and women conversing and children playing as they should. In the midst of a calm summer-lit day, a being entered the hallowed borders of Babylon with a shadow of malevolence about her. She crossed the streets without a single glance by the people, who went about their business as usual. A line of running children came at her but they swerved passed her without so much as a apology, there was no reason in apologizing to something that wasn't there. She continued through the parade of children's play up to the domain of the Kings which lay upon the center mountain; it was the most ravishing piece of architecture ever endowed into the city that resembled a gothic church but lacked the insecurities in structure of its later generation. Her ascent was fated to unleash an evil like nothing any of the people of Babylon could have imagined.

With every step, a single speckle of sky began to darken as if to signify her path to the King's summit, making its way through the air like a black plague slowly enveloping the entire region in darkness. Through the streams of light still gleaming into the hall where the Kings dwelt, the tattered canvas that covered her body began to slide tenderly yet slowly off her as she entered the doorway that gave the seven Kings the full view of anything that passed through its hallowed doors. The Kings demanded to know who she was. Her reply was a simple chuckle and a disenchanting sigh followed by a gentle hand curling upwards to unlace the canvas about her revealing her true identity.

As her cover floated to the ground, her dark, luminous curl cascaded softly across her shoulders and face. Her lips shone with a dark, blood red color and her eyes glistened with a similar glow. Following along her neck was a ruby pendant which only accented the black-crimson corset and garter belt that clung seductively to her fair body like the gouging fingertips of demons. The Kings could only look in bewilderment at this woman who presented herself so flagrantly in the midst of this sanctimonious domain.

As if by some strange compulsion, the Seventh King, Viminal, who had always seemed to be the most unreliable, suddenly rose from his throne and presented himself to the woman by kneeling before her and gracing her presence. It was most unbecoming for anyone, especially a King, to be so outwardly libidinous, even with one's own lover. With a wisp of her hand and the mouthing of words in a tongue so foul that even the summit groaned and cracked in pain from its presence, the Seventh King crumbled to the ground and writhed uncontrollably for what seemed to be an eternity. The other Kings could only watch, paralyzed with fear, as their fellow leader began to slowly stop moving and rise to his feet. His eyes were glazed and red as a manic smile grew across his face. The same shade of red, the one of blood, the one of sinister motives, was like her's, the embodiment of defiance to the Almighty. It's sickening color brought contorted expressions of agony and fear to the revered Kings' faces.

He took in a breath and began to speak, "Thank you. My..." his voiced hushed and the very breath of the word sent chills through the spines of the sitting Kings. He turned to the others slowly with a hand across his chest, "My brothers, fellow Kings, let this woman show you the treasures that she bears. She and I have been consorting under the cover of midnight's dark grasp for some time for the future of Babylon. Let go of your former lives, the teachings and laws we foolishly held onto, and become part of the New Order. This woman is the key to all our greatest dreams and happiness. We need not live in fear of that tyrant of an Almighty anymore!"

One of the other Kings, Caelian, stood up and exclaimed, "You speak blasphemy, fool! How could you turn your back so easily and yield to this wretched woman?! We knew after the completion of Babel you were becoming corrupt but the lowest pit could not describe your treachery!"

The First King, Aventine, in the center of the others lifted a steady hand, "Calm yourself brother, this is far beyond anything we can object to. Can you not see it? That man is no longer our brother."

Aventine stood up and looked deep into the crimson woman's eyes, "You, I know why you've come. You are His servant, the one prophesied to be the being that was sent to test us? But this isn't right, if you are to be the guide to salvation, why are you trying to ruin this land?"

The woman smiled maliciously and uttered a light chuckle. The sound echoed in the Kings' ears and caused them to wince involuntarily. As she began to talk, an ominous succession of whispers filled the air like the chanting of children, but their words were unintelligible and foreboding. Inside the chant, an undertone emerged slowly of a dark voice that spoke in that same tongue of Damnation. Her words became knives that pierced the Kings' souls and caused their ears and eyes bleed profusely. They could feel the slithering of her power grasping them and burning their minds, purging their reverence.

Through the blur of blood and pain, Aventine reached out to the Seventh in an attempt to regain his brother. His words were stuttered by pools of blood emerging from his mouth as he spoke to the Seventh, Viminal, "B-brother, you have doomed this land with your treachery. Nothing will save you now, the Almighty will purge this evil once and for all. Y-your a f-fool, and now you will join your whore in Hell!"

A dark hiss came from the entranced King as he stared at him with his clouded, crimson eyes, "Do not speak to me as if I am to care! What has He done that I must be grateful for?! I pray and receive nothing!"

"You are a King of Babylon, the most prosperous city in the world, and you call that nothing?" The First wiped his mouth clean of blood and stood wearily, "You were chosen to be a leader of this utopia and yet you slander it!" He leaned back and spat blood into the Seventh's face, "The people were wrong to choose you! You strive for power and greed! Everything we were to oppose, you uphold as a necessity!"

As soon as he finished, he coughed and gagged as Viminal gripped his throat viciously. He his and glared into Aventine's eyes making him scream in pain, his eyes began to swell and cloud with the same shade of crimson as the Seventh. Aventine, in an attempt to uphold his loyalty to the Almighty, uttered a small prayer in the sacred tongue bestowed on those who were of Babylon. The only word that would be heard was his last which was not spoken, but thought of as the last of his humanity was stripped from his soul. "Sons." He collapsed onto the ground and convulsed like the Seventh then rose to his feet. His eyes too were now gates of the ungodly inferno that awaited the others.

The piercing look struck horror into the other Kings. Their eyes were fixated on the woman who had not moved an inch but only stood there laughing. Who was this woman and what earthly power enabled her to do such gruesome things to mankind? Before the Kings could formulate an answer to these quandaries, their minds became clouded as their sight blurred leaving the image of the inscrutable woman embedded in their minds, or what would be left of it. The seven wise Kings of such great consecrated leadership had been seduced and subdued by the woman in the scarlet dress.

The days that followed this macabre affair was nothing unusual to the people, but to the Kings, they began the fire that would erupt into the blaze of despair and pain. It began with the issuing of the cancellation of all laws forbidding the citizens from anything regarding the laws and restrictions made by the Almighty. The sudden upheaval of everything they believed in outraged the people. When they came to complain to the Kings all they saw were the harems and sties of the much revered Kings and left infected with the same reddish glow in their eyes. This glow grew and spread to men, women, and even children thus initiating the disintegration of all morality and social conduct amongst these once pious people.

The ones who had such strong faith and rejected the ideology of their neighbors had been the victims of most of the crimes. Their pacifistic nature made them perfect targets for the deranged Babylonians since those who fought back were dealt even worse torture. One family though, had remained hidden throughout this time of rapture. A woman, and two children, only two or three years apart, had escaped into an area where no one ventured except on rare occasions. It kept them safe for many months with little food but at least they were alive. The two boys were entertained by their mother who told them of tales from their father. He was a great man, who loved everyone, especially his children, and gave his mind, body, and soul to the Almighty in order to keep the city prosperous. As their mother told them of their father's benevolent deeds, they clutched what all left they had of him, two small crosses with an engraving on the back in Babylonian. They never let them out of their site and constantly prayed to Him that their father might return to them, as he used to be. Days, even weeks, would pass as the three survivors stayed locked in the prison of their city constantly praying that this life would end.

There was nothing but sin in that city, where everyone gave into their selfish desires of lust and greed. Crimes and criminals ran rampant through the city leaving only pain and suffering wherever the blackened hand saw fit. Rape, robbery, and rebellion was too common for these people and yet no one did anything to change it, but rather endorsed it by committing it themselves. The shameful acts were pursued by all and the worst of which were the Kings from which the sickness that crippled this prosperous originated.

In their dwellings were nothing but darkness shielded only by the stifled light gleaming through the cerise curtains revealing the once renowned Kings laying amongst random women, drink, and the occasional pool of blood that spattered the walls and floor. At the head of this immoral seven, was the woman from which the Kings found their new lifestyles. Her finger constantly curling her dark locks as she watched the world around her crumble. Her laughter rang out like a siren song, only urging the people to commit more and more sin.

Then, one fateful day, where the acts of Lust and Greed met their peak, the woman stood with the Kings up on the balcony to proclaim to their people. In that instant, the woman took from Her side a dagger, gleaming with its own devilish glare, and walked to the Seventh King. Slowly, She began slitting the throats of the Kings spilling their blood into the crowd. The crimson shower was greeted by the greedy tongues and palms of the people who clawed wildly at the sky like parasites to a wound. The other Kings merely laughed as one after another was slain before them and their citizens. The Kings' bodies began to steam and boil with a dark bile that profusely gushed from their lacerated throats. Their eyes began to lose their reddened appearance as they regained their sanity. Their eyes welled up with tears as they saw the slithering fingers of death clutch their souls. As their minds slipped away, they saw what would become of them in the horrific stare of a shadow which began to swallow them completely. With every throat cut, the dagger began to darken building and black mist about it until at last it shone a grim shade of black and crimson when the last King had been killed.

The people cheered, drunk with the taste of their rulers' blood, and began to assail each other in a frenzy of adrenaline and ecstasy doing as they did for so many days. The woman bellowed with a hollow laughter that shook the people to their bones, and in the instant that the laughter ceased. The unholy cackling had been the catalyst that tore the people from their onslaught of vulgarity as their eyes had been opened to what they had committed. The crimson glow left their eyes along with the safety of their souls. Many cried out in sorrow, some seeking immediate redemption ended their lives with anything they could grasp with frantic wails the instant their sanity was regained, others stood there in absolute silence and horror at the atrocities they ensued. All was in vain for they lost any and all hope of escaping their fate. Not a moment sooner, the clouds darkened and only a blood-red light shone upon the woman. It was then she pointed her elongated finger at the people in an attempt to persecute them for their crimes. As if on signal, the domain of the Kings erupted sending pieces flying everywhere. Rock and debris tumbled and crashed into buildings and people as a shadow stood in the wreckage. As the smoke began to clear the people could only look on at the repugnant monstrosity that stood before them.

A gargantuan beast, of which no one could even fathom and towered amongst them more so than even their mountains could contain, stood there bearing several heads and ten horns with the faces of their Kings, desecrated and abject, upon each head. It stood with its ghost pale skin stretched over its massive limbs as each twitched and writhed intensely. The faces quickly changed to a demonic state, leaving only a snarling, driveling entity of pure evil, and, without the most subtle of surprise, expelled a foul-colored flame from its many heads and engulfed the people in the hellish flame. It seared the skin from their bodies sending a putrid stench into the air, boiled their blood causing them to belch flames from their orifices, and explode their eyes from their sockets. The citizens ran in fear cursing themselves for what they had done but all was in vain as the Beast began to destroy the city and slaughter the people without any hesitation.

Buildings and bodies were strewn about, some were eviscerated with their entrails dangling and their limbs, like rag dolls, torn from their sockets and strewed amongst the burning wreckage. Man, woman, nor child had been spared as the Beast destroyed bearing the once revered faces of their Kings which were grinning maliciously hungering for blood. The earth was stained with blood, bones, and flesh as those who laid alive for a few moments longer witnessed their loved ones violated and murdered instantly. The Beast trampled and scorched the city decimating everything until the sky ran black and crimson. Who was there to witness this charnel scene? It was none other than the now, and properly named, Scarlet Harlot who rode upon the beast as it rampaged through the city. The people were powerless and could do only one thing, pray. In the time they took to pray, the sky lit up in a radiant light that seemed to startled and stop the Beast's onslaught.

From the sky, a blaze of fire hailed down like rain. As rain performs purification upon the Earth, the burning balls of fire purged the ground of all sin, incinerating everything, including the neighboring city of Nineveh which was becoming like Babylon so it was naturally taken as well. The Beast was struck and caught in a blaze leaving its shrilling howl into the darkness followed by a cataclysmal explosion that obliterated everything in its path. The remaining people smiled in their bleeding, mauled bodies as the purging fire engulfed them and saved them from the horrific fate of their brothers and sisters. The Scarlet Harlot screeched as Her body caught fire, but not of the purging fire, Her fire was much more sinister.

In the hours following the end of the city of Babylon, there was no sign of the Beast or the Harlot, the only thing left was a smoldering piece of crimson cloth that slowly disintegrated in the wind. Everything was in ruin, no buildings stood, no bodies were left, as if they had vanished along with the Beast and its Harlot. In the far perimeter of Babylon, where the mother and children had stayed, the hut had been spared utter destruction but had still been broken down into rubble.

From the crumbling pieces of rock, underneath the mutilated corpse of the guardian mother, two bodies slowly crawled from beneath it. Severely burned to where no recognition could be found, the two dug out and laid sprawled on the ground breathing shallowly unable to move. Upon these two were marks, not any their people were familiar with, that covered specific parts of their bodies. Through the scarred tissue and completely destroyed features of their bodies, the marks glowed and emitted dark, eminent symbols that slowly slithered across their bodies until they seemingly immersed themselves into the two.

When the two laid there motionless, they glanced at each other with their eyes almost completely sealed from the burning and clasped their hands together, with a small cross around their wrists, as the darkness of the night sank into them. The darkened sky, with its swirling, abysmal fog, parted and shown the brilliant stars through as the two bodies laid underneath in the aftermath and ruins, slowly drifting into oblivion.


	2. Ch 2 Divination

Ch. 2- Divination

In the calm night, he stirs silently aware that his brother was next to him. As he sits up, he notices his brother is not there. He gets up and looks out of the make-shift tent made from tattered cloth and animal hides. It made for shelter, but wasn't at all comfortable for either of them. No luxuries had been awarded to either of them since they had been isolated from the world for a number of years and came back with nothing but what they already had, which was also nothing. When he peered out into the moonlit darkness, he saw his brother standing there looking up at the sky. His face portrayed a kind of sadness that would eventually become lesser once his thoughts had been collected.

As he stood up and walked over to his brother he asked to him, "You had the dream again didn't you? That's the third time this week isn't it?"

His brother smirked and looked up still without turning around, "Yes, I did. But this time, I wasn't afraid to see it through."

He looked at him somewhat surprised, "Really now? So you saw all of it? What all did you perceive?"

The brother turned around and shrugged, "Just bits and pieces as usual, but it was interesting in any case."

He chuckled and rested a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Understandable, I too shared in that feeling of disappointment when I delved into my dreams. Though unlike you, I can never seem to wake up when I want to."

The two looked at each other and laughed in the dim lit darkness as both of them crawled into their tent and rested for the day to come.

Before either of them went to bed, the brother turned to the other and said, "Tomorrow, we'll head to the town just past the foothills."

The other replied, "Yes, maybe there we can get somewhere." With that, the two drift off to sleep readily awaiting the coming day.

As the dusted wind blew through the doors of the broken down buildings and squalid alleys, two cloaked figures, with their coats shredded but still covering, moved through the rising smoke. The people of this shattered and begrudged land crouched helplessly in the corners of patios huddling together with what little they had. Children did not play in these dirt ridden streets, they stayed far from site, waiting for an unsuspecting visitor to drop their wallet bags and eat for another day or two. No animals crossed either, the only things were horses and the occasional disease infested dogs who stayed tied to the water trough awaiting their master's call.

Two cloaked figures, one wearing black and one wearing grey, made their way into a nearby saloon where much raucous was ensuing. As they entered, men were gathered at a table yelling and gesticulating at each other, each had a hand of cards. Some were pulling cards from their sleeves, others looked at an adjacent player who had tilted their cards too much. The women were more or less the same, yet they had their dignity. As they teased the men about them, their slight of hand gave them more than a month's worth of victuals or in some cases, enough to put away and buy themselves free of their iconoclastic lifestyle. One woman in particular was not dolled up and sleuthing men of their wallets. Rather, she stood and swept the floor silently monitoring the saloon.

She had a soft, golden glow about her finely curved body, something all the other girls lacked; a kind of purity or righteousness. She had a normal, coarse-fiber dress and a small cross on her necklace hidden inside the dress. Her eyes glancing side to side slowly but her gaze was constantly on a table with a young man and his group of hard-knuckled delinquents. Every time his gaze met hers, her face would contort into a malicious scowl as her blonde hair covered it slightly, which would make the young man smile innocently and gesture a kiss in order to spite her. Then, he would continue his game with the brutish bunch who would also hound the women walking by. He seemed to have a kind of intellect that would manipulate those around him, truly scum. Yes, this place had many similarities to a once proud sanctum.

The two, now could be distinguished as, men sat down on stools and folded their hands in front of them in a polite manner.

The bartender came to them and asked in a rugged voice, "What'll it be you two?"

One looked to the other and they answered simultaneously without any falter in tone, "Anything."

The bartender shrugged and dusted off an old bottle with the triple "X" on its label. He poured two glasses and slid them on the grease-stained, splintered table to the mens' hands with precision. Both of them took alternating drinks, one after the other, as they sat silently as if to listen in on what was going on around them.

From out of nowhere, a gunshot rang out followed by a gasp, a scream, then silence. "Now who's the lyin' cheater ya good fer nothin' bastard?!" said the groggy voice of a man with obviously too much to drink.

The young man next to him laughed and laid his hand on the drunk's shoulder, "Careful now, we already made quota with the homeless bunch in the alleyways, though I guess another grave never hurt anyone."

After a few seconds the jeering continued as the dead man's body laid bleeding leaving a pool of blood to serve as his tombstone. The young woman stood there and gripped her broom so hard blood seeped between her fingers, but still, she kept sweeping, silently praying and weeping for the man whose life had ended so violently. A funeral fit for an animal, was now an open invite for those who opposed the word of the young man. Yet, no one did nothing, only joined in the murderous laughter of the young man with the seal of the Governor on his collar, sleeves, and pistol.

Through the laughter and yelling, a low chuckle came across and filled the air; this laugh was hollow and melancholy causing everyone to feel a chilling sting and turn to see where it came from. It was the gray-cloaked man, bent down cackling to himself as his companion sat motionless. The drunkard also turned and, being under such influences, came to the conclusion that the cloaked man was laughing at him. The drunk stood up and went behind the gray-cloaked man and shouted at the top of his lungs, "And what is so damn funny you little prick?!" It was then the gray-cloaked man swung around to face the intoxicated man but with his face still shadowed by his cloak, only his semi-sadistic grin could be seen.

The smiling man replied in a carefree tone, "What's funny is that whenever you people get angry, you have to wind up killing one another; you people are so hilarious."

The gray-cloaked man laughed again and only made the besotted tippler angrier. He snatched up the collar of the gray-cloaked man's coat and yelled into his face, "You think your better than me?! I'll show you!"

The drunk swung at the gray-cloaked man's face but before his punch would connect, a gasp for air would escape his lips as a fist laid embedded into his stomach. The man flew back across the saloon hitting table after table until the wall stopped him. On lookers stared in awe as it was the gray-cloaked man, who was no longer cloaked, that struck this punch.

His neck-length, dark brown, almost cedar colored, hair bounced as he slowly stood up straight to show his entire attire. He wore a black colored long-sleeve with accenting white collar and tiny black cross on the left lapel, along with black pants that flowed into his black shoes. Everything on him looked absolutely clean and fresh, almost brand new. He brushed back his rather long bangs back to show his strangely colored eyes. They were a bright green that became darkened voids toward the center and if his gaze was ever met, they would flicker ever so slightly with a violet gleam.

He dusted off his shoulder and chuckled to himself, "Man, big words from a guy who can't take a punch. Oh well, can't expect much from a booze hound like him."

As he turned to face his companion, a large friend of the drunk was about to collide a piece of sturdy wood into the back of his head. Before the uncloaked man could turn, his companion stood by him with his forearm holding back the piece of wood with little effort.

"You shouldn't let your guard down like that little brother, even if its from a worthless piece of filth like this." he said to his brother in a stern and denigrating voice.

With that, the black-cloaked man threw back his arm and sent the attacker rolling across the ground.

He stood up and took off his cloak to show his true self as well. He had dark blue hair, no longer than to his shoulder all around except for in the front, and a black trench coat, with a small white cross on the right lapel, that went down and widened as it reached his shoes. It covered his leather-tight, black long-sleeve, his black cover that had once been on his face, and matching black pants. All of this, of course, was pristine in condition as well.

His blue bangs brushed across his sharp, dark yellow eyes as he smirked to his brother, "Looks like we've chosen the perfect location to begin our journey."

His younger brother looked back and stood ready, "Couldn't have said it better myself, bro."

Right then, five men approached them, guns drawn, and boards ready. At the back of the group was the young man from the table, he wore a confident grin as he spoke to the brothers, "Hey you two, I don't know who you think you are, but this is my town,_ I_ make the rules, and I think its time to issue some of _my_ justice." He spun his pistol in his hand and cocked the hammer slowly while raising his other hand.

With a snap of his fingers, his four brash cohorts leapt for the brothers with guns, straps, boards, and fists eager. Within seconds of the attack, both brothers sprung apart and split the group of men evenly.

The first two was followed by the dark brown brother who proceeded to somersault across the saloon into a wider area. The first attacker swung a board at his head but was too slow. He ducked with ease and delivered a sweep kick tripping the attacker. As he fell, the dark brown haired brother kept spinning lower and gave another kick of greater magnitude and sent the attacker into the opposite wall. The second attacker aimed his pistol right at him but lost his bearing as soon as he found it. In a blinding speed, the dark brown haired brother had already reached him and planted a knee into his solar-plexus launching the attacker up against a rafter before falling to the ground unconscious.

On the other side of the saloon, the blue haired brother had stood in place some yards away letting his attackers pursue him. The brother raised only one hand and grabbed the attacker's board fracturing it in two with one grip. The attackers looked at each other in horror as both suddenly caught the blue haired brother's foot in their faces, putting them both unconscious and sprawled on the floor. He smirked to himself while brushing back his bangs and looked to his brother who had finished his attackers off as well.

The final man, the young man stood there with his pistol drawn but dropped them and coward before the two mighty brothers. He begged to them, "Please let me go! I'm the Governor's son! I _need_ to live! I promise to leave this town and its people alone forever!" The brothers looked at him and then to each other. They gave a slight nod and jerked their chins in a dismissive manner. The young man stumbled over broken furniture and battered bodies as he fled.

A young woman approached them with a sauntering swagger as she held her broom firmly to avoid breaking her composure. She had blonde hair and had seemed like a woman who had seen enough troubles for two lifetimes, though this did not take away from her beauty, than the others. It was the same woman from before, only instead of a frown, she wore a gleaming smile as she approached the brothers.

She said to them, "You know, that was the Governor's son and his goons you just trashed. They tyrannized this town because he was the Governor's son, but now that you've put them in their place. Maybe we can finally start being a normal town again. Also, as you witnessed earlier, that man was gunned down by one of them; thank you for giving him the revenge he deserves." Her last words echoed in their minds, it made the hairs on their bodies stand on end for moments that seemed like hours. They quickly regained their train of thought as one of them stepped forward.

"It was no problem for us Miss. We did it all for you and your wonderful town which showed us such hospitality." said the younger brother clasping the young woman's hand in his. His voice was sincere but she could hear its blatant irony.

The older brother smiled and said, "It was no problem of course, we were glad to help. Come now brother, its time to go."

His brother looked at him with almost innocent eyes, the kind of look that made the implication that they should enjoy this place a bit longer, "But we haven't been properly thanked, and I think we've deserved it after-"

The older brother looked at him with a stern look, "No. We've overstayed our welcome, its time to continue forward, isn't that what we agreed on?"

The younger brother sighed and nodded, he released the young woman's hand slowly as the two reached the door. He nudged his brother slightly to express his bit of disappointment, but the older brother merely chuckled at his brother's annoyance.

The young woman, who had been caught up in the unexpected gesture by the younger brother, uttered out a few words as they were about to leave, "W-wait, I never did catch your names."

The two looked at each other then looked back at the woman, the one who answered first was the younger brother. "My name's Markus." he said as he pointed to himself with his thumb.

The older brother smiled kindly with a calm expression, "And I'm Alastor. Formally, we're known as Alastor and Markus Dominik. It is a pleasure to meet you."

The young woman felt a slow growing heat in her cheeks and looked down, no one had been this polite to her or anyone for many, many years. As soon as she looked up, the brothers were gone. After a moment of bewilderment, she regained her composure and picked up her broom while clutching a tiny cross which had been placed in her hand without her knowing. "Hmm, Alastor and Markus, The Dominik Brothers. Quite an odd pair they are but I guess that is what makes them so great."

She lowered her head slightly and closed her eyes. "Thank you, and may He hold you in His Grace through your journey." she said to herself with a silent prayer as she returned to her normal tasks with a hopeful smile evident on her face, her eyes becoming moistened as the wind blew.

The brothers made their way across the barren border of the town and into the desert.

Markus looked at Alastor and asked him, "Hey bro, even when we don't try, we're always doing good for others. I think its because people think we're so _approachable_."

Alastor chuckled and smiled at Markus, "I know brother, and its more than likely you who is the cause of such things. You can never keep to yourself."

"Its not my fault that people are too ignorant to overlook such trivial matters like money. Its one thing that truly makes me question our journey." He replied.

His brother looked down, "But nonetheless, it is our purpose. To spread good unto others, to atone for our own misgivings and seek out our true goal, the decimation of that which destroyed us."

The two brothers disappeared into the flurry of flying sand, leaving no trace of their existence in that town. Through the swirling dust, a man walked from nowhere as they left. He wore dark glasses, gloves, and a white coat that, even in the sand, remained pristine. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he breathed in deep and exhaled slowly looking into the town. Through the darkened lenses, a deep maroon light began emanating from the buildings.

He grinned and turned to the town, "Looks like this place is ripe for the picking, its stench is almost unbearable. I should thank those two for taking care of that nuisance, now it can finally begin."


	3. Ch 3 The Brothers Dominik

Ch. 3- The Brothers Dominik

The moon light gave the pitch black night an eerie luminescence as enveloping as it was captivating. The two brothers laid side by side on top of their tattered cloaks gazing up at the night sky with their eyes transfixed on the vast web of stars that seemed to extend into infinity. They amused themselves by creating shapes with the stars, something they had not done for so many years. After laying for some time they both became silent and basked in the serenity. In the void of the night sky, one of the brothers became troubled as a realization crossed his thoughts.

Markus, without looking at his brother, asked him, "Hey Al, where are we going? I mean, I know what we're looking for, but where exactly are we looking?"

His brother chuckled and sighed a heavy but comforting sigh, "To be truthful, I have no idea whatsoever dear brother. I guess our path is wherever the day and night guide us, forever searching until we find our chance at redemption."

Markus let out all the air he had held in his lungs with one breath and continued to stare into the sky. He felt the warmth of his brother's hand atop his as he drew in a fresh breath. He smiled and latched two fingers to his older brother's who had now turned his head to face him. They looked at each other as a small wind blew and gusted their hair across their faces. The warmth comforted them and allowed them to drift slowly to sleep with the dust and earth softly shifting beneath them.

They awoke the next day and dusted themselves off while wrapping on their cloaks. They stood as the sun began to beat down harder and the wind picking up gradually. Both brother walked silently through the gusting winds as dust and sand pelted them from every direction. Despite nature's hindrances, they continued forward in a straight path unable to be deterred. It may have been hours, it may have been days, but the brothers continued to walk vigilantly without any sign of stopping. Suddenly, Markus turned to Alastor and pointed to a small patch of greenery just beyond their sight. The older brother looked and smiled skeptically at him as they made their way to the welcoming shade and comfort that would await them.

Surprisingly, it was no mirage, it was a patch of green, though the patch now was more of a forest filled with lush vegetation and rich, melodic hoots and hollers. The two took off their cloaks and laid in the soft grass for a moment to absorb the serenity of their new found Eden. It was the only word they could think of to describe it. Just then, a low but echoing grumble came from Markus's stomach which caused him to laugh uproariously. Alastor nodded his head forward to hide the smile growing on his face and tried to repress his laughter.

"Looks like I've developed quite an appetite bro, how about I go and grab us a bite to eat?"

Alastor sat up and then stood as he stretched his arms. He looked to Markus smirking, "No brother, let us both venture out and gather food for our own accords, agreed?"

Markus shrugged and began walking away, "Whatever you say Al." The two parted and began their miniature ventures to seek out food.

On Markus's end of the forest, he gathered some twigs and oddly shaped berries into a tiny satchel on his side constructed from his cloak. As he walked he heard a loud grunt coming from the brush up ahead. He smiled to himself as he readied his hands for what may come. A rather large and angry boar erupted from the bush and charged at Markus in a wild frenzy. With one smooth motion, Markus was behind the pig before it knew it and quickly snapped its second and third vertebrate with two precise strikes with his hands, killing it instantly. It grinded the ground and coughed out what little life it had remaining laying motionless.

Markus dragged his hefty catch back to the meeting point below the shady tree where he proceeded to wait for his brother. Growing flustered, Markus began to make a fire pit and a large skewer to dangle the boar and cook it.

As Alastor walked through the thick vegetation, he could hear the quiet chirps and squeaks amongst the treetops. He closed his eyes and let the sounds guide him through the forest. After a few minutes, he came to a large opening that expanded into an even larger lake that shimmered and lapped the shoreline.

Just then, the sound of crackling branches and snapping saplings filled the calm air causing Markus to stir a bit. He looked back and smiled. Coming through the last bushel of tree branches was none other than Alastor with a tremendously massive fish that looked as prehistoric as it was ugly. He held it up with one hand quite easily as he held a make-shift bowl filled with fresh fruits and herbs that looked much more appetizing than Markus's collection of misshapen berries.

Alastor let down his obscenely large catch onto the ground with a thunderous boom that shook the ground beneath it. It's mouth moved slowly as it too gasped its last breaths before slipping into death. Its slimy body lay motionless as Alastor walked behind it and ripped out the large wooden piece that had been lodged into its spine.

Markus chuckled and fed more wood into the fire. "Man, you are such a show off, you know that?"

Alastor looked at him and laughed modestly, "Maybe I am, but I don't do it on purpose. And it was a very massive fish."

His brother gave him a puzzled look and shook his head, "Your quite the oddity bro, hard to believe we're related."

Alastor smiled and began to tear off pieces of fish and boar meat and handing them to Markus, "That is true, but aren't you glad we are?"

Markus smiled back and set some fish and pork on the skewer, "Yes, if it wasn't for us, there would be no one to finish the job."

The two ate silently as the smell of roasted pork and fish filled the air sending a feeling of joy throughout the night sky leaving the two brother full and content awaiting the next day's light.

As the morning light came over the horizon splashing the scenery with an illustrious vision of tranquility, the two brothers awoke refreshed and eager to continue their journey with a new hope that everything will be fine. As they finish off the large portions of meat left over from the night before for breakfast, they threw on their cloaks and began their trek into the desert once again.

The two brothers walked with confidence as the green field became a speck in the distance. Markus looked to Alastor and smiled happily knowing that nothing could ruin this great morning. The smile soon disappeared and a look of shear terror spread across his face as an explosion burst from behind them sending shockwaves throughout the ground and fling embers and ashes at them. A strong gust of sand hit them but quickly dissipated after a few moments.

The two turned quickly to see a burning bonfire that could be seen from miles away. It was the green field, a once great utopia, that had been annihilated and scorched into oblivion. The two brothers looked on in horror as their peaceful patch of sanctity had been destroyed right before their eyes.

Alastor looked to Markus and uttered out a feeble explanation, "Markus, I didn't want to ruin our evening yesterday, but I guess you should know now. The lake from where I expounded that fish, had markings along the lake floor from the late eighth century. From what I could gather, they were failsafe plans to eradicate anyone who took advantage of that bountiful place."

"It just so happened that the one fish I took and the large boar you took, along with the various fruits and plants, made up the majority of the surplus of that land after decades of weary travelers picking it bit by bit. They booby-trapped that place, because they themselves could not protect its splendors after death. Their good intentions brought despair to a once beautiful land."

Markus, wide-eyed and shaking, clenched his fist tightly and lowered his head to hide the look of sadness overcoming his face. "Why? Why do things have to be like this? Why does everything good around us have to be destroyed?! How can we possibly hope to accomplish anything if all we end up having is nothing?"

His voice trembled as he slumped down his shoulders in sorrow. Alastor stared straightforward with a stoic face, no emotion could be seen. Only a determination in his eyes shone through the expressionless facade.

He answered his brother in a stern, demanding voice, "No good deed goes unpunished my brother. There must be a balance in this world, that is why we exist."A cold, unforgiving look came over his face as he looked into the inferno in front of him, his eyes filled with the same intensity as the flames.

"It is our purpose in life; our curse, our atonement, to seek the one who destroyed our lives. The one who took away our future, our people and destroy her along with the very entity that wreaked destruction onto our city."

He lowered his head slightly and turned away from the flames while resting his hand on his brother's shoulder. He gripped it tightly to snap his brother out of his despairing trance. The sudden pain brought Markus's attention back to the situation at hand as his feelings of sadness were somewhat lifted by Alastor's reassuring grip.

"Come now Markus, lets take our leave of this place. Let the burning embers fuel our souls into the salvation we rightly deserve, to exact our revenge on the woman and her monstrosity."

Markus turned with his brother as they both walked away wearing the same expression; one of sorrow, betrayal, and contempt.


	4. Ch 4 Revelations

Ch.4- Revelations

After the burning of the utopia, the brothers continued through the desert for another number of days, weeks even; time was irrelevant to them. Their somber sauntering brought them nowhere near civilization nor any other sign of life. The listless looks in their eyes showed nothing more than the despair they felt and the drive to complete their purpose in life. Neither of them said a word to each other, silence served as a conduit for their true feelings. The wind blew harder than ever and sand rained from everywhere. They still pushed on, through the sandstorms, through the stark, cold, barren wasteland without any objection to the harsh realities they faced. As time progressed, the two found it easier to move through the desert with their heads lifted and their sorrows forgotten.

It had been almost a memory to them, the warmth of actual people, it had gotten a bit lonely for them since their encounters in the old desert town. The two reminisced how they helped free that town of their tyrant, at least there the good they did lasted or at least they hoped it did. After what seemed like years, the two saw in the distance a faint light, it shimmered slowly but grew as the brothers approached it. When the light reached its climax, they reached large gates that loomed over them with a almost dominating yet welcoming prospect. As the brothers looked with interest, the gates opened ever so slightly to let a single being through their imperious stature.

It was a somewhat intimidating man, his wore sunglasses that hid his eyes but accented his snow white hair and tan skin. His body looked to be sculpted like that of a warrior but his stride showed sympathy. One feature that stood out other than his demeanor was his arm, particularly his right, which was covered in black symbols and circles that formed a sort of seal all around his arm. This was the only thing the brothers could look at as the man approached them.

His voice snapped them out of their staring trance like the thundering of a storm. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

The sudden question startled the two but it was Alastor who answered back. "We are wanderers of this desert, we are in search of shelter and perhaps a place to rest ourselves."

He tried to smile but only a forced smirk appeared. Markus looked at his brother as he smiled too leaving the atmosphere a little more calm. The man smiled back with a relaxed expression, one that would seem a drastic change from his previous one.

"Of course, excuse my harshness, its been quite tense around here lately. Please, come inside, we'd be glad to give you two a place to rest." The brothers looked at each other and the same though crossed their minds. "We? There are more people like him here?"

The two pondered this thought as they entered the gates with the white-haired man who seemed much more comfortable with their presence than a few moments ago.

Inside the gates, the brothers looked around with wonder as what they expected had been rudely interjected by the new scene displayed before them. What they saw was a myriad of different types of people, none of which looked the same as the other, except for the common humanoid structure of course. Some wore massive armor that covered their battle-scarred bodies, others wore next to nothing except for a small piece of cloth that covered their extremities. Others had robes and average clothing that was unique to certain occults and mystics. There were many merchants and civilians conversing in the lot selling elixirs and treating wounded men and women who looked fresh from battle. What truly caught the eye of the two was the number of people who beared animal-like traits on their bodies. They had morphed ears, teeth, tails, and even possessed claws. These amalgams, being of no hostility, provided a serenity amidst the dust, filth, and squalor around them.

Alastor turned to Markus and whispered to him quietly so as not to catch their new host's attention, " Brother, these people, they look not of man nor beast. Have we really been so far out of touch that this world of ours has grown that much more blighted?"

Markus shrugged, "I'm not sure, but I think that the people here aren't evil. It is more likely that they are the offspring of some creature or being that has emerged after that day. After all, we have been gone for quite some time."

Their host spoke to them without turning, "These people are not monsters, though their appearances say otherwise. They come from all over the lands, it wasn't until a few decades ago that-" he paused, "that those with unnatural abilities began showing up, after the Grand Awakening."

His words echoed into the brothers' minds. Had all of this happened to the world because of that day, and in their absence? Their trip through the compound brought them to a building situated in the center of the area. They entered and were greeted by a seemingly normal girl who had welcomed them warmly but suddenly faded from sight as quickly as she had arrived. Then, from out of nowhere, a man appeared in front of the brothers with an inquisitive and annoyed look upon his face.

"So, these are the travelers you spoke about." He scoffed, "they _do_ look normal."

The white-haired man turned around, "Lloyd, do not startle our guests with your antics."

The man turned to face the white-haired man and gave him a piqued reply, "Oh come on, after walking through the lot they should know everyone here isn't normal, but I suppose your right."

He turned to face the brothers, "My apologies if you were _scared._" He grinned arrogantly and appeared at the white-haired man's side in an instant, his expression more somber.

He whispered, "Sir, main forces have become weakened and our barriers on the South end are being penetrated, the enemy will be upon us in a matter of hours."

The white-haired man sighed and whispered something into his ear and he was off. Alastor had been watching their conversation intently and looked away as soon as they had finished.

The white-haired man turned and laughed towards the brothers, "I'm sorry, I never introduced myself, they call me Gabriel, I am the leader of this army, the Nimron Army, and you two are?"

As he finished, he took off his sunglasses to reveal a rather large crossed scar across his right eye that only made his demeanor more menacing. What appalled the brothers was his eyes. They were a deep crimson red that flared with a bitter resentment through his calm facade. The same thought crossed their minds when they stared into the red pools of Gabriel's eyes but it was quickly dismissed as they found it rude to stare.

The two quickly regained focused and answered Gabriel, "I'm Alastor" "and I'm Markus" the two said, "We're known as Alastor and Markus Dominik, its a pleasure to meet you." The two smiled and nodded in a polite manner.

"Alastor and Markus, the pleasures all mine. So, what brings you out this far into this wasteland?"

Alastor answered, "We're just wanderers, always looking for something new along our journey."

Gabriel chuckled and replied as he fixed his sunglasses to his shirt, "So you told me, its good you like to try new things. Tell me, and I know this will sound completely out of subject, but do either of you know how to defend yourselves?"

The brothers looked at him with a puzzled look until Markus answered full heartedly, "Of course we do! What with all the dangers out in the desert, we can't afford not to!" His boisterous reply made Gabriel smile.

"Good, then could I ask you a favor? You can have anything in return if you do me this one favor. It is of grave importance."

Alastor crossed his arms and looked to Gabriel, " I think I see where this is going, you want to ask us to help you in what may seem an upcoming conflict sometime in the next few hours?"

He closed his eyes and smirked, "Looks like your more than just average travelers. Yes, that's it exactly. So, what do you say?"

The brothers looked at each other and smiled. "Shall we?" asked Markus."Hmm, its an interesting offer, but must we always enter into such useless conflict?" replied his brother. The two turned to each other as Markus spoke, "There's not much more we can hope for, we need a place to stay for now. Don't worry, we won't have to resort to anything drastic. Agreed?" His brother looked to him and nodded.

Alastor answered Gabriel again, "Yes, we'll help." He gave them a enthusiastic smile, "Excellent, I just hope you two are up for things out of the normal." The two chuckled and looked at Gabriel with an unworried expression giving him some condolence.

A burst of screams and explosions filled the air of the calm atmosphere as all three men turned to see the southern wall in flames. Gabriel turned to Alastor and Markus, "Alright you two, lets both keep our end of the deal!" With that the three burst from the central building and into the fray. All around were men and women screaming, some were desperately fighting the enemy with anything they could grab. This all proved to be hopeless, they were at the mercy of the four beings leading the assault. They stayed in the shadows for a moment before one at a time, they began to destroy. There were only four of them, but their power alone was capable of decimating whole companies at one time.

The one who flew over their heads and rained fire on the unsuspecting, spoke to the woman slicing through the bodies of men and women with little effort spraying their blood and severed parts amongst the grave-ridden ground.

"Having fun are we Jen?" he said as he silenced the flame within his palms.

The woman laughed as she replied, "Not in the least, this army is nothing compared to us Harutobi, they're a joke. Let Sarutobi, Dark Blue, and I enjoy ourselves a bit more before we destroy the leader!"

Harutobi grinned, "Do as you please, I'll continue finding amusement with these insects while I wait."

They all continued to slaughter the Nimron Army, no one was safe from their rampage. Merchants and civilians tried to flee but the enemy's lesser soldiers, or Grunts, vile and reptilian in appearance, were flooding in hoards into the compound and slaughtering anything in sight. Greedily they ravaged, clawing bodies with their wild eyes and chittering squeals constantly growing fiercer. The only resistence was a handful of swordsman and other assorted fighters with barely any strength left for fighting. Only when the amassment of Grunts has peaked did the true forces of the Army appear.

Coming from beneath tattered huts, the creatures from before emerged with eyes wild and attacked in a frenzy of tearing claws and unbelievable power. Behind them came the myriad of sorcerers, who began chanting in their druid tongues and sent waves of elemental furies and incantations that bellowed into the sky sending Grunts into a panicked hysteria. Drooling mad and crazed, they began tearing themselves apart raking their claws across their eyes until they collapsed in a pool of blood and bile.

This slowly began to seal the victory of the Army, but nothing would stop the Dark Four from destroying them as well. The battle raged on as the never-ending stream of Grunts continued to fill the compound. The scene of bloodshed and mindless killing only fueled the rage building in the two brothers as they split up to aide their comrades in protecting their home.

Markus grouped with a party of two sorcerers, two women who had the appearances of felines, and the man from before, Lloyd. As a swarm of Grunts ambushed the weakened group, Markus sprung in between them and delivered a series of kicks that flowed and connected with the one before it giving more momentum and power. The assault was repelled in an instant, the four comrades looked at Markus with relieved expressions as they too continued to fight.

Lloyd grinned at Markus, "You're not half bad, for a stranger. Your style of fighting is nothing like I've seen before." Lloyd spun his spear then slammed it into a line of Grunts in his way. They began to circle him but before they could even touch him, he had ended them all with swift, piercing strikes that only seemed a blur. He gave himself a self-assured chuckle and swung the blood from his weapon, "But don't think that means anything here."

Markus grinned back, "Don't worry, I'm sure your poking stick can handle pretty well. But I insist, leave this to me." More Grunts came and Markus planted his heel in each of their skulls.. His arm and legs seemed to moved with a drunken swagger and assaulted the enemy as every hit sent a Grunt flying with a sizzling wound the size of a large plate in their bodies. Though his body was moving erratically, he never lost focused and was seemingly untouchable. He made quick work of the Grunts and had decided to take on one of the Dark Four, the woman slicing through the bodies of his new comrades, the one they called Jen.

He called out to her tauntingly, "That's a nice sword you have, lets see if it can keep up with my fists."

Jen smirked as she changed direction and pursued Markus with much persistence, "We'll see what you think after I've bathed my blade in your blood." No matter how swift the attack, her blade never truly caught him, even as it sliced the air between his skin and her sword.

On the other side of the field, Alastor was assisting group of young mages who kept firing off spells frantically. Just as a Grunt was about to attack the youngest of the three, Alastor came from behind her and took the Grunt's blade to his forearm. He grabbed the Grunt's helmet and crushed it like paper sending skull fragments and brain matter squirming from the crumpled metal and tossed the body aside.

"Alright you three, go somewhere safer and try to help your comrades, they need it. I'll handle this from now on." They listened and took off past where Gabriel was fighting, he had been slicing through Grunts with his hand. His seal on his arm glowed as the grunts seemingly dissolved to his touch. The marks slithered around his arm and curved and spiked until it encompassed his shoulder.

A Grunt had snuck too close to Gabriel for his touch to catch but Alastor had swept behind it and drove his fist into its neck before it could assault Gabriel. It's body tumbled as a gurgled scream screeched out before its vertebrae completely severed and killed it. Alastor's knuckles cracked as he exhaled calmly.

"Thanks, but I think I'll handle it on this end. You go and make sure that our forces nearby are covered." Gabriel shook his arm as blood dripped from his hand and sizzled off his arm where the seal marks were.

Alastor nodded, "Alright, just make sure you live long enough to carry out your side of the bargain. This battle will not be the last of this place or any of us."

He chuckled and continued slicing through Grunts making their bodies fall to pieces. With the mages gone and Gabriel occupied, Alastor had to deal with the hoard of Grunts that had formed around him. They all attacked at once as Alastor broke his foot into one of the Grunt's face, bounded off of the body and spun himself to kick another and drive his heel down forcing the Grunt's face into the ground. All the others came as Alastor slammed his fist into them with enough force to shatter their armor and break every bone in contact. By the time he had brought his arms to his chest, all the Grunts had been demolished and he stood there smiling to himself.

Then, a voice came from behind him, "So, you can take a couple of Grunts, but what about me?" Before Alastor could turn towards the source of the sound, a sword stabbed through his stomach as he had been pierced from front to back all the way through.

Alastor's eyes widened as an exasperated breath expelled from his mouth and he slumped forward. A man appeared in front of him, his eyes dark, piecing blue and his hair completely black, only the blood splatters on his suit had given him any real distinction in color. He chuckled darkly as he wedged the blade deeper into Alastor's stomach making him convulse and cough raggedly.

As if by some innate sense, a twinge of pain shot through Markus as he turned to see his brother impaled and hanging onto the blade that had pierced him. Markus's eyes bulged with of fear and anxiety as he looked at his brother's skewered body. He cried out, "Al! No!" leaving himself wide open to Jen who had still been pursuing him. As Markus looked on, he felt cold steel fall onto his shoulder and onto his vital artery at his neck. Jen giggled as she forcefully pushed down on the blade trying to lacerate his shoulder more.

Alastor gripped the blade forcibly as Dark Blue's blade laid embedded in his stomach and his head dropped down making his hair dangle lifelessly. Suddenly, as if possess by madness, Alastor chuckled, then burst into a full, echoing laugh that stop all fighting in that complex.

"So, you enjoy impaling your enemies rather than slicing them? You know, it looked like fun, I just might try it." He looked up at Dark Blue, his eyes consumed by a bright, piercing gold color that emanated an almost invisible vapor and struck fear into his soul. His manic grin and crazed eyes was enough to catch Dark Blue by surprise, it was his chance.

The sound of grinding stone and tearing flesh filled the air as Dark Blue had been impaled six times by stone spikes. He had been raised in the air so that the source of the horrid mutilation could be seen. The spikes came from the right arm of Alastor, who no longer had any flesh, but cold stone in its stead. His body decorated in symbols and marks which quickly flicked then faded except on his neck, right shoulder, and left eye. The sword he had removed from his stomach sent sparks across the floor as sand poured from the ineffectual wound.

Dark Blue could only utter a few words as he coughed up blood and torn internal tissue, "W-What in the world are you?"

Alastor chuckled and answered in a slightly disgusted and unforgiving voice, "What am I? I am the curse of a once great city, the embodiment of my people's salvation, their revenge."

The spikes snaked through Dark Blue as they pushed him off and onto the ground. "I am neither human nor demon, I am Fallen and my only way back into grace is to destroy her and her beast!"

Alastor's arm returned to normal as he punched the ground sending a shockwave through it making hundreds of arms rise out and grab any enemy nearby and crush them in their cold, unforgiving grasp. Dark Blue, still alive yet bleeding profusely, had enough focus to dodge and escape them but the Grunts had no hope. One after another, each of them were constricted and crushed as their bodies were erupted violently sending their entrails across the ground and decorating it with mounds of mulched cadavers.

Everyone looked at Alastor with fear and panic evident in their eyes as he turned in Markus's direction.

"Brother, we cannot hide it anymore, let us show these people the culmination of our people's sin and their only chance at redemption."

Markus chuckled as symbols flickered all over his body, disappeared, and remained slightly under his left eye. Jen looked at him as he stood up breaking her sword into pieces, her blade had rusted and deteriorated in a matter of seconds. The pieces seemed to be broken down particle by particle leaving only chunks. Jen jumped back and stared at her sword hilt which had been rotted and then looked to Markus as the same sadistic grin shown on his face.

He laughed aloud and replied to his brother, "Alright then, even though it would be a waste to use it on these peons, it has been awhile since we've cut loose like this. Lets see if all those years of training were actually worth all the trouble."

Markus darted across the ground with even greater speed than before, dissolving the path of ground beneath him as he went, to the side of Alastor. The two stood there, as entities greater than any these people had ever seen; their marks apparent on their bodies and their true power still in question. The Dark Four, Gabriel, and every other being on the field had stopped in awe at these to figures, the two mysterious men of unspeakable might and wicked descent.


End file.
